Casablanca:Diagon Alley
by SeaBreeze
Summary: Casablanca w/ HP. Harry's an agitator. Neville's a jazz player. Ron lost his heart in Diagon Alley years ago. Who gets the girl?
1. Let Me Fall

Casablanca: Diagon Alley Let Me Fall 

Author's Note: This is basically Casablanca, substituting Rick and Laslow and all them with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The plot is different (duh, what would Harry, Ron, and Hermione be doing in North Africa in the 1940's during muggle WWII?) and I just used Diagon Alley as the name because… if you pronounce it Digon Alley, the syllables match the syllables in the word Casablanca. Very romantic, I know ;). I got the idea when watching (duh) Casablanca in a history video class. I was just watching it and I thought, "Gosh, Harry would make a perfect Laslow," and that's where the idea spawned. Lol. Spawned. Mutated. Whatever. Ok I'll shut up. No wait! If you've seen Casablanca, it'll be obvious who's who. If not, it doesn't really matter, but I suggest you go watch THE MOST FAMOUS ROMANCE MOVIE EVER!!!!!!!! Thank you. Oh yeah! And bear with me for the first bit; it's spelling things out for you.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything! All credit goes to it's do… creators, and the only thing I did was smash two stories together, figure out how to make it work that way, and put it into words. Thank you, thankyouverymuch!

~*~*~

Ron sat lazily in his chair in the pub he had started in Ireland. It was more like a wizard nightclub, but being in Ireland, it was naturally considered a pub. Ron's, it was called. Not very creative, but it was the most happening pub within miles. Besides having an extremely successful pub and being extremely well off for the first time in his life, Ron was heartless. Not to say he was cold, - well, he was, actually- but he had lost his heart in London, they said. No one knew to whom it was lost, and no one knew any details, either. No one, that is, except Neville. Ron's right hand man, his buddy. Neville played the piano-as well as the saxophone and singing- every night at Ron's. He was good, too. So good he was handed splendorous offers every other night. Of course, he never took them up. He was very happy at Ron's, though, thank you very much. He was the only one Ron actually trusted, and would never abandon his friend anyway.

"I've already got more money than I know what to do with here," he would always reply to an offer thrown at him. Ron had known Neville forever- they had gone to school together as children, and then met years afterwards. Ron was surprised to discover that clumsy, forgetful, blundering Neville was now a fantastical nightclub performer. While he forgot passwords and ingredients for potions at school, he never forgot a single note he played. Unlike the rest of his life, he was coordinated and skilled with his instruments and voice. Confident, even. No. That wasn't right. Confident, especially. But not in an annoying, overbearing kind of way. Neville had found his calling with music. It was Neville who had made- but no, Ron didn't want to go there. 

Ron's other old friend from school, Harry, had become a strong activist for the rights of half-bloods and muggle born wizards. He fought those in the Ministry of Magic who weren't fond of the likes, and had become quite unpopular with half of the wizard population. With the other half, though… quite the opposite. The fame he had always had was now tripled, because he was HARRY POTTER: boy who defeated you-know-who once and for all, and an agitator for half-muggles and muggle borns. Defeating you-know-who had spurred many of Voldemort's followers into a rage; the laws regarding those of muggle descent had become increasingly unfair. So, of course, noble Harry Potter had fought those laws. The Minister of Magic, Cripyle Monagus, had put a large price on Harry's head. He was a wanted man. Monagus was, obviously, a strong believer that those of muggle descent were unequal. Wizard schools all over London were now filled with pureblood wizards only, and the muggle-borns were forced to stay home. Ron, too, had fought the anti-muggle-born laws, but was not as well known as Harry. After he had lost his heart, he lost all feeling and escaped capture by sneaking to Ireland and opening a pub. After Graduation at Hogwarts, Ron hadn't seen Harry. Besides reading the papers, he had no idea what was going on with Harry. 

Ron's condition was spiraling downwards continually. He had no cares, no feelings, no emotions. "I wouldn't put my neck out for nobody," he always said calmly. "I'll care for me and let everyone else care for themselves.". The government in Ireland was slowly copying the English trend of anti-muggle-born feelings. Ron, though, didn't care. He talked with politicians, policemen, army men (when need be). He really would've rather avoided everyone altogether, maybe save Neville. 

Because Ron's was such a popular spot on the tiny isle of Ireland, it was perfect for those agitators working secretly underground like Harry. Ron knew this, but really didn't care. Ryan, another friend of his, sold exit visas (which was illegal without the consent of the government). He didn't tell the Irish Ministry what Ryan was doing, but had made it clear that if he was caught, he wouldn't do anything to stop them from taking him to jail.

Presently, Neville was playing 'The Very Thought of You' and singing to a group of swing-dancing witches. Ron sat quietly, watching the happy club-goers with no emotion. At that time, Ryan made his way up to him.

"How's business?" the small, excitable Irishman asked briskly. Ron looked around slowly.

"Booming, as usual." He said with a dull expression. Ryan laughed, a booming sound surprising for a man so small.

"Only 25 and already used to the money rolling in," he said. "Anyway, the reason I came to talk to you, Ron-"

"And there always is one. What do you want?" he asked cynically. Ryan shook his head sadly.

"You do make yourself rather stiff and unfriendly, like. Love done you bad, I'd say." Ryan said smartly. Ron just stared at him.

"Well? What do you want?" he snapped, stopping a waiter and grabbing a martini off his tray. Ryan sighed and continued.

"Well, you know I've got to do my part with this rebellion. Got to keep the business rolling. Mind you, it's not as prophet worthy as yours. I'd just like to know if anyone's come in here looking for some exit visas to France." He said, sighing. "One of the only places left with common sense. The French know blood doesn't matter…"

"I'd keep your voice down if I was you, Mallow. Got government men swarming the place. And no, no one's asked for a visa lately." Ron said. Ryan nodded.

"Oh, but there might be soon! I hear Harry Potter's escaped London for a bit to fight laws here in Ireland! He's coming to Cork, Ron. And this being the best nightclub/pub for miles…we could be seeing him in here. I hear he's wanting two exit visas, for himself and a lady friend, to France. To reorganize, find agitators there to bring back to London for an all-out war!" Ryan looked about to burst with happiness. For once failing to keep the surprise off his face, Ron stared at him.

"Harry Potter! When's this celebrity supposed to be coming to Cork?" he asked. Ryan grinned.

"Yesterday! Word is, he's coming here tonight!" At this, Ryan shook his hand and scurried out the back door, most likely coming back that night. Ron sat and thought silently. It would be strange seeing his old friend again. Maybe it would even remind him of her- that lying trash.

~*~*~*

_let me fall; let me cry_

_someone I am is waiting for courage_

_I won't heed your warnings_

_I won't hear them_

_holding on to no one_

_you can hold me only if you, too, will fall_

_so let me fall if I must fall_

Author's Note2: Let Me Fall is by Josh Groban. Who can sing, damn it! I'm a little worried that the first part of this is a little too boring, but trust me, IT GETS BETTER! Much! Romance is in the next one. A flashback. To Ron's heartbreaking by the "lying trash".  And also, I wanted to make it known (for avid Casablanca fans, like myself) that this is based loosely on Casablanca. So no flames on that, k? Constructive criticism welcomed, as well as compliments ;)


	2. Unbreakable Heart

Casablanca: Diagon Alley-  
  
2: Unbreakable Heart  
  
  
  
Author's Note: Finally, it gets interesting! Why Ron is so. soul-less, who the "lying trash" is, what she did, etc. and how Neville is involved. All below! Geez, I sound like a damn car salesman! I rated this story Pg-13 not because it's a Pg-13 story, but so I could cuss in my author's notes. LOL, just kidding. But it's a perk.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing once again. Except my keyboard- yes, that's right, I own a keyboard. Not the computer. The keyboard.  
  
~*~*~*  
  
It was about 10 o'clock, when the partiers partied harder, when Ron sighed and closed his eyes, allowing himself for once to go back and remember Diagon Alley. And the events that came to place there. He remembered every detail as if it was yesterday, but really it had been years. Well. not really years, but it seemed like it. Things were different then; Harry was in Azkaban. For being an agitator. For a while the rumors swarmed that he was dead, but no. Weeks later word spread that he had escaped. Ron had met a girl in London. An old friend, really, one with romantic prospects. It was in a club very much like his own Ron's; crowded with loud, happy music. The song playing then- As Time Goes By. The man singing it was amazing; made Ron feel like falling in love on the spot. And really, he did. She was sitting at the bar, looking down and ordering another drink. "Hit me again, Sam," she told the bartender as Ron moved towards her. He glanced at her. "'Sure that's a good idea, miss? You've had quite a few already." He said, all the while mixing another drink for Ron's lovely, drunken lady. She glared up at him with bloodshot eyes from both crying and over- drinking. "Hit me, Sam." She said firmly. (A.N.-Yes, Sam is Sam from the movie. Only he's not, at the same time. Don't think about it, it'll confuse you. He's just a bartender named Sam to you, ok?) He shrugged and handed her the brandy glass. Ron slid onto the stool next to hers and pulled the brandy out of her hands. "I think you've had enough," He said. She sputtered drunkenly and made a weak attempt to take her glass back. "Come on," she said weakly. "Give it here," she made another futile attempt and fell off her stool gracefully. To save her from hitting her head on his stool, Ron dropped the brandy and caught her arms. "Calm down," he said soothingly as he pulled her up to look in her eyes. It was that moment that they both realized whom the other was. His jaw dropped slightly and she gasped. "Ron?" she asked, confused. He nodded, shocked. "Hermione?" he whispered in surprise. She goggled at him. "What're you doin' here?" her speech slurred. "Came to dance with a pretty lady. Would you like to oblige?" he asked. Hermione nodded, smiling with slightly crossed eyes. "Sure," she said as he half walked, half carried Hermione to the dance floor. And it was then, Hermione half-drunk and that amazing song playing, that they fell in love. Later that night, after many more dances, Ron took Hermione to his place. He tucked her into his bed and grabbed a spare blanket for himself on the couch. Over the next few weeks, Hermione and Ron fell more in love with each passing minute. They were forever together, often going back to that nightclub to listen to that amazing blues singer sing as Time Goes By. Ron was curious to know what had happened to Hermione since he had last seen her, but she always answered the same way: "Oh, Ron, no questions, alright? I'd just rather not talk about it." And they lived by that pact. When Ron wasn't busy with his fight against the anti-muggle borns, he was with Hermione. On one night, they decided to go back to the nightclub and ask for the singer's name. "Oh, Ron, I'm so excited! Maybe we can get him to sing As Time Goes By again. I fell in love with you to that tune, you know." Hermione said, jumping like a child on Ron's arm as they walked into the club. Lately she had been glowing with happiness, thanks mostly to Ron. He grinned. "So did I." He said softly, kissing her ear sweetly. She smiled warmly and caught his lips in a kiss. They quickly found the club manager. "Hello," Hermione said. The manager nodded. "Hello." He said. Hermione glanced at Ron, slightly discouraged by the manager's stiff behavior. "We were wondering who plays the music here at your club," she said with a smile. The manager pointed over to the man at the piano, thanked them for visiting his club, and went back into his office. "Wonder what's wrong with him," Ron said, taking Hermione's hand and leading her to the piano. The piano player, whose face was shaded by his dare devil 40's style hat, seemed to be taking a break and working on writing music. Ron leaned against the piano. "Good evening. We were wondering-" but he stopped with a surprised look on his face, leaning closer to the man as if to get a better look at his face. "Neville?!" he asked in shock. Hermione gasped and stepped around Ron to get a better look. Neville grinned and stood up, embracing Ron. When he saw Hermione, a strange look came over his face that Ron couldn't identify. Hermione looked slightly guilty but wiped the look off her face quickly. "Neville! It's been so long!" with Ron behind her; she gave Neville a pleading look. He nodded just so she could tell. "It has," he replied with a warm smile. "What's been up with you two?" "Oh, not much. How did you get into music, Neville?" Hermione asked incredulously. He shrugged. "Just started playing an old piano I found. This guy, a black man, Mosley, he heard me and started training me. He said I had talent." For another very rare moment, Neville looked proud. "I caught on really quickly, so he taught me sax and voice too. I'm good at it and I love it, so here I am." He beamed at them. Hermione looked awestruck. "Neville, I just can't believe it! Could you play that song for us? As Time Goes By, I think it was called. It's very special to us." Another strange look crossed his face, but it passed and he turned to the piano. He stretched his fingers and set them on the keys. They began to dance, and the mesmerizing melody played. Hermione and Ron stood and watched, amazed, until he began to sing. Then the irresistibility of his voice overcame them, and they began to dance. Neville glanced back and broke into a grin as he saw them. "You must remember this, a kiss is still a kiss; a sigh is just a sigh. The fundamental things apply, as time goes by." Neville sang. Hermione leaned her head against Ron's shoulder as they swayed to the music. Other couples from all over the club joined them quickly. When the song was over, Hermione wiped an unnoticed tear from her cheek. "Oh, Neville, that was wonderful," she whispered. He ducked his head. "Thank you," he mumbled softly. I took a minute for Ron to realize that Neville was blushing. They spent the rest of the night talking with Neville or dancing to his music. Near 2 am, everyone had gone home and Neville was closing down the club. "Ron, I was wanting to ask you a favor," he said, stacking a chair on top of a table. Ron, who had been pulling on his overcoat, motioned for Neville to continue. "Well, I'm wanting a new place to stay. The manager and I don't get on very well, so I'm trying to find somewhere else. I know it's a lot to ask, you with your agitator business and Hermione." he smiled faintly, but Ron was already agreeing. "I'd be honored, Neville. Hermione and I have a flat just on the other side of the bridge. It's big enough, and you won't get in the way. I promise. I did live with you for 7 years," he reminded Neville with a grin. Neville grinned back. "Thank you very much. I promise, you won't even know I'm there," he said, grabbing his hat and jacket and the music he had been working on earlier that night. "Nonsense," Hermione said, and the three left the club.  
  
~*~*~*  
  
Over the next few months, Ron, Hermione, and Neville lived happily together. Ron was slowly being considered an agitator in Diagon Alley, and was starting to be more careful about where he went and the number of ministry wizards swarming the place. He was also no closer to solving Hermione's mystery, but was perfectly happy with her. Finally, he was almost bursting with curiosity. "Oh, come on, Hermione. A gorgeous girl like you? Some man somewhere must've loved you like I do." He wheedled. Hermione smiled sadly. "Someone did." She said softly. Neville, who was in the room at the time, looked at her sharply. "Would you like some wine, Ron?" he interrupted, glad for any excuse to leave the room. Distracted, Ron nodded. "And what happened with him?" he asked Hermione. She turned away. "He's dead," she said dully. Ron sat down on the couch and pulled her towards him. "I'm sorry," he whispered comfortingly. "I didn't mean to pry." "I was so sad and so confused and so lonely, so so lonely. Then I met you and. well. you know the rest." Hermione smiled up at him, cheering slightly. Ron grinned and missed the tip of her nose. "He must have been a fine man, for you to love him so much." "You have no idea," Hermione muttered under her breath so Ron couldn't hear her. She nodded for him. Just then, Neville came in with the wine glasses. He handed them to Ron and Hermione, going back to the kitchen with his own to listen to the radio. Ron held up his glass in a toast. "Here's looking at you, kid," he said. She giggled and clinked his glass. "You goofball," she said, kissing the tip of his nose. Minutes later, Neville rushed in, looking scared. "Ron! You've got to get out of London! The Ministry- they know who you are-what you've been doing! You need to get out of here, and as soon as possible!" his eyes bulged and Ron nodded. "First flight out to Ireland. Damn the Ministry for restricting apparation- it would be so handy." "And Ron! Harry! He's alive! He escaped Azkaban, somehow! Can you believe it?" Neville looked torn between being worried about Ron and excited about Harry. Ron grinned. "Nasty sneak always did know how to escape trouble. I suppose you two are coming with me?" Ron asked, looking at his two companions. Neville nodded vigorously. "Of course! Where you go, I go. " He insisted. Ron grinned and turned to Hermione. "And you?" "Yes, I'll go. I wouldn't let you leave me here in London all alone, now would I?"  
  
~*~*~*  
  
Ron stood impatiently by the train, checking his watch. It was almost 5 AM, where was she? He had on a long overcoat and large hat to hide his identity, but they also helped keep out the chill of the rain. He searched the crowd until he recognized Neville. "Neville! Have you seen her? It's nearly 5! The train will be leaving shortly!" Neville shook his head but handed Ron an envelope. "I found it in one of my bags," he said. 'Dearest Ron' was written on the outside. Raindrops smeared the writing. Ron tore it open to read the note:  
  
Darling, I can't tell you why but I can't come with you to Ireland. We will never see each other again, although it pains me to say so. I love you dearly, so go to Ireland without me. You'll find another love, as I did in you. Hermione  
  
Ron stared, angry and disbelieving, at the letter for several minutes. After what seemed like ages, Neville's voice drilled its way into his mind. "Come on, Ron. We're bound to miss the train," he said kindly, pulling his friend by the arm onto the train. Ron stepped on, still searching the crowd for Hermione to no avail. Angry, he crumpled the letter and let it drop to the ground as the train took off.  
  
~*~*~*  
  
I suppose I should know Sometimes love just comes and goes But I believed, foolish me  
  
We'd go on and on  
  
Please remember this, when you drop your guard Nobody has an unbreakable heart  
  
.nobody has an unbreakable heart  
  
~*~*~*  
  
Author's Note: Ok! Flashback over, let's move on now, Ron! Unbreakable Heart is by Jessica Andrews. Thanks to Leanna and Julia for being the first to review my story! 


	3. What Do You Need

Casablanca: Diagon Alley  
  
3: What Do You Need?  
  
Author's Note: Ok, next chapter. This one's mainly drama. I went through about 6 songs and then a good friend was talking about the goo goo dolls, and eventually the name What Do You Need? Came up and I was like thank you, I love you man! Sorry this chapter took so long, it was all a matter of finding the right song. and getting REVIEWS *cough cough* ahem. On to the story.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothin'. Goo Goo Dolls own What Do You Need, from Gutterflower. If you don't know who owns Harry Potter and all HP characters, go get some help. Or at least get out of the HP fan fiction corner of the site. Duh. ~*~*~*  
  
Ron shook his head fiercely, snapping himself out of the memory. Just then a waiter, no older than 18, rushed up to him. "Mr.Weasley! Mr. Weasley! Harry Potter's here!" he said excitedly. Ron waved the young man off and stood up slowly. Seeing Harry would be nice. He guessed. But when he got close enough to see him and his companion, it was his companion that caught his attention. It was Hermione. On Harry's arm, laughing happily and then whispering in his ear. Ron just stood there and stared. He couldn't believe it. Hermione had left him for Harry, and now had the nerve to walk into his bar. He immediately wanted to know what she was playing at, but at the moment, Harry spotted him. "Ron!" he cried in surprised joy. "Ron! I don't believe it!" he hurried over to Ron and embraced him, Hermione following him with a terrified expression crossing her face. Ron stiffly hugged Harry back, all the while glaring at Hermione. "Harry. It's nice to see you. Have you been agitating many Ministry men lately?" Ron joked. He was immensely confused. He wanted to hate Harry, but just couldn't. He was glad to see him. As he said 'Ministry men', he realized that every Irish Ministry man in the pub was glancing suspiciously at Harry. He leaned in and whispered quietly to Harry: "Watch out. This place is swarming with Ministry folk." Harry nodded and pulled Hermione forwards. She looked scared. "Ron, I'd like you to meet my wife. Hermione Granger. You remember her, don't you?" Ron shook her hand and nodded stiffly. "We've met. After Hogwarts, I mean." Hermione nodded in agreement. "Long ago," she added, shooting a meaningful look at Ron. He looked away disgustedly and turned to Harry. "I'll give you my best table." It was hard, being so happy to see Harry, so angry to see Hermione, and so confused about them being married. He brought them to the nicest table in the place and grabbed two menus from a passing waiter, who looked confused but then walked on. He handed them to them. "I have to go get back to business. You two enjoy dinner, and please tell me how it was." He bowed and left, feeling strange and bitter. Minutes into Harry and Hermione's dinner, a high-ranked Irish general came up to their table. "Mr. Potter. May I have a word with you?" he asked. When he saw Hermione's 'be careful' look at Harry, he chuckled. "Don't worry, I just want to ask you a few things." He said. Harry nodded and stood up. "Excuse me, Hermione, dear, I'll be back soon." He left. Ron saw this and watched the general suspiciously. He went to talk to some people at a table near Hermione's, but she motioned for him to come over. "Ron," she said worriedly. "Will you go down there with Harry and the General? He's not very careful and I don't want him to get caught." Despite holding herself back, she was almost begging him. He turned away bitterly. "I don't believe you're actually asking me to do something for you." he snapped, but followed Harry for Harry's sake. Hermione sighed and put her head in her hands. When she looked up, the piano player was getting ready to play another song. He looked familiar. She stood up and walked over to him. "Neville?" she asked softly, surprised. He looked at her the same way. "Hermione! It's good to see you." He grinned. Hermione looked desperate. "Play it again, Neville, will you?" she begged. Neville looked flustered. "I can't, Ron forbids it-" "Please, Neville! Play it again. Play it again, Neville." Neville sighed. "Alright, I would, but I don't remember it." "Of course you do! You know it perfectly well, you're just scared of Ron!" she snapped. Neville glared at her. "He is my boss! And I really don't remember it." He said, scowling. "Oh, but you must! You know how it went." she began humming the song until he began to catch on and play it. Soon, he was singing it and Hermione thanked him, going back to her seat and wiping a tear away from her eye. A minute later Harry emerged from the side door, and Ron emerged minutes later. Harry headed towards Hermione but Ron froze, tuning his ears to the music he heard. Then he stomped towards Neville's piano. "I thought I told you never to play that song!" he breathed quietly, dangerously. Neville stopped singing but kept playing the melody of the song on the piano. "I know, boss, but Hermione." Ron stormed away before Neville could finish. ~*~*~*  
  
~Before, with Ron, Harry, and the Irish Officer in the basement~ Harry turned around and spotted Ron. "You coming as well?" he asked with a grin. Ron gave a small smile back. "Monitoring things," he said. Harry grinned again. They made their way down the stairs. "So," The Irishman said once they were seated. "Now we've got the infamous Harry Potter in our humble country." "Famous Harry Potter, to the other half of the population," Ron reminded him. The Officer smiled despite himself. "Yes, I know. All right, the Well-known Harry Potter. I have to say, Potter, I can't have you stirring up any rebellions while you're in Cork." He said seriously, looking at Harry. Harry shrugged. "I'm not planning to stir up anything while I'm here. It's just a stop until I can get a legal way into France." "And you do know the British Ministry of Magic has offered quite a large sum of galleons for your capture. It could be dangerous to stay here too long. And some higher-ranked Officers than myself will want to make sure you don't escape the country." The Officer said. "Are you threatening me, Officer? Are you going to turn me over to Monagus?" Harry asked boredly while inspecting his nails. The Officer, whose name they now saw was O'Malley, shook his head. "No, Potter. I myself don't plan to turn you over. Fact is, I've taken a liking to you. While you're here, you're safe because I'm the highest-ranking Officer for miles. But break a law and I've no choice but to turn you in. Got it?" O'Malley asked. Harry grinned. "Crystal clear, O'Malley," he said, standing and shaking O'Malley's hand. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a lovely lady overhead to entertain." He and Ron began to head up the stairs, O'Malley put out a hand to stop Ron. "Can I have a word with you, Mr. Weasley?" he asked. Ron turned and looked at the Officer before sitting back down. Harry had already gone upstairs to Hermione. "Yes?" Ron asked. O'Malley scrunched up his nose and surveyed Ron for a moment. "Just doing some background checks, and-" "Background checks? On me? What for?" Ron interrupted quickly, rudely. O'Malley shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. "It's nothing serious, just that I heard some things about you."  
  
"Things? Like what?" Ron interjected. O'Malley looked thoughtful yet uncomfortable. "That you fought alongside Potter for awhile, before moving here. At least that's what I heard." "I had a strange habit of picking the losing side and helping it out." "Expensive habit," O'Malley countered. "I'm a rich guy," Ron shot back. "It all sounds too nice guy-ish. That's not the Ron Weasley I know. The Ron Weasley I know- well, he isn't a nice guy." "Of course I'm not. I'm a businessman. What do you expect?" "That's not what everyone says. There's rumor that you lost your heart in Diagon Alley-" "Well, either way, I don't care anymore for anything. I pick no sides and help no one but myself. I'm not gonna stick my neck out for anyone." He left the room angrily.  
  
~*~*~*  
  
What do you need form me tonight  
  
I feel you look right through me now  
  
I can't pretend it's alright  
  
Maybe we'll find a way somehow  
  
Why do we need to turn it on  
  
Why does it always feel so wrong  
  
Fear makes you fragile darling  
  
Hate is too heavy when you're weak  
  
Now we're both lost in anger  
  
When we're alone we'll  
  
Find some peace 


	4. Almost Blue

Casablanca: Diagon Alley  
  
4: Almost Blue  
  
Author's Note: This is where I'm straying from the story, people. It's the hardest part to write, so that's why it took so long to get it to ya'll. The song is Almost Blue by No Doubt. It's kinda supposed to be more of Hermione's song than Ron's, and the feel of it is very. depressed 40's. Perfect for this story. It's my new favorite song.  
  
Disclaimer: If I claimed to own this stuff. people would laugh. ~*~*~*  
  
Ryan hurried up to Ron, an urgent look on his face. "Ron, can I ask a favor of you?" he asked nervously. Ron stared at him. "I don't do favors," he said. Ryan pulled out two passports. "I know, I know, but just do me this one thing? The Irish Ministry is after me and they can't find me with these papers. Just. I don't know, lock them in a drawer or something." He held out the papers for Ron to take. Ron rolled his eyes and took them. "Fine. But you owe me, Ryan." Ryan gratefully shook Ron's hand. "Thank you so much, Ron! I'll pay you back." And with that, he put his hat on and moved towards the back exit. Ron watched as 3 Irish guards nodded at each other and began to follow him. He saw this and changed directions, heading towards the basement room Ron had just left. Ron followed him. "Please, Ron." Ryan pleaded, knowing he was in trouble. Ron glared at him. "I told you, I don't do favors. I'm not going to help you escape. Just let yourself get arrested, it's not that bad." but Ryan had run off, heading for another exit. Just as he got out the door the guards got there too, and they chased him into the Alley. Everyone in the club was silent until they heard a loud bang. Ryan was dead. "Everything's under control, go back to what you were doing," Ron announced to his pub. Everything went back to normal. Then Ron hurried out to the alley to find the guards hauling Ryan's body away. O'Malley was there now, taking notes. Ron walked over to him. "Why'd you have to do that so near my club?" he asked angrily. "You upset my customers!" O'Malley sighed. "Mr. Weasley, may I talk to you? I need to ask you some questions." He said. "Why? You don't think I had anything to do with this, do you?" he snarled. O'Malley shrugged. "There's a possibility." Ron shook his head in disgust and followed O'Malley into the basement for the second time in an hour. When they sat down, he began interrogating him. "I have several witnesses claiming that Ryan gave you papers before we caught him. Is that true?" "Caught? You mean killed." Ron said darkly. O'Malley glared at him until he answered the question. "No, Ryan never gave my anything," Ron said, wondering why he was lying. It didn't really matter what happened, anyway. When O'Malley began to argue, Ron continued angrily. "Have I ever done anything for anyone else?" he snapped. "No. I suppose not," O'Malley said thoughtfully, still watching Ron with slight suspicion. "Well, watch out for those papers. We suspect that Potter's going to try and escape to France sometime soon, and those papers are his only way out. We can't let him go." O'Malley's face darkened, and Ron knew that if the Irish government had anything to do with it, Harry wouldn't get to France. O'Malley left the room, tipping his hat at Ron. Ron dropped his head into his hands.  
  
~*~*~*  
  
Later that night, Harry came up to him quietly, looking as if he needed to do business. "Ron. Care for a drink?" he asked solemnly. Ron debated with this. He never drank with customers, but this was Harry. "Alright." He said after a moment. Several people around them stared at him in shock. He sat down and they ordered the drinks. They were in a secluded booth near the back, away from the Irish. After a few minutes, Harry got down to business. "Ron, I heard you had those exit papers, and I was wondering how much you want for them." Ron's resolution hardened. Harry was his friend, but what Hermione had done had scarred him and he wasn't about to make her happy. "I'm sorry," he said simply. Harry watched his face carefully. "This has something to do with Hermione, doesn't it?" he asked slowly. Ron cocked his head, surprised, at him. "Yes," he said. Harry watched as his best friend's eyes turned cold. "So we can't leave because something happened between you and Hermione?" Harry asked. Ron nodded curtly. Harry stood up slowly. Smiling stiffly. "Can't say I blame you. Good luck with the pub." He shook Ron's hand, and then, after some debate, hugged him. Then he left, hat pulled over his eyes.  
  
~*~*~*  
  
Ron felt almost terrible about what he had done to his best friend, but at the same time he liked that he wasn't letting Hermione get an easy way out. He wanted her to suffer as much as he had. He decided to leave Ron's early and head home. A few hours after he got home, there was a knock on the door. It was Hermione. "What do you want?" he asked sharply, although that was kinder then what he had wanted to do, which was slam the door in her face. She looked anxious. "Ron, I needed to ask you-" "What? You want another favor?" Ron asked angrily. "Yes, Ron. I do." "And you expect me to do something for you, you of all people?" "Let me just explain-" "Explain? Explain what? How you promised to come with me and never showed up, only to show up years later at my pub with your husband, who also turns out to be my best friend?" Ron was holding himself back so he wouldn't yell at her. "Fine. Maybe you're different from what I remember. But just let me explain everything, not for me, for you." Hermione had tears in her eyes. Ron glared and slammed the door behind her. He crossed his arms and waited for her to explain. She swallowed. "You remember I told you my first love had died, well, it was Harry. I was lonely and there you were, smiling and loving and I needed that. When you invited me to Ireland, I was ready to go until Neville told us about Harry. He was alive, and hurt and he needed me. I had sworn to stand by him in sickness and health, and suddenly, there he was. Injured but alive. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't go with you, my husband needed me." She looked at her hands and a tear rolled down her cheek. "Did you love him?" Ron asked softly, forgetting his shell for the first time in years. Hermione looked up at him. "Of course," she whispered. "But I was in love with you, Ron. I didn't want to leave you any more than you wanted me to leave." Hermione broke into a sob and hunched over in pain. Ron's heart went out to her and he wrapped his arms around her. "And now that I've seen you again, I know I don't have the courage to leave you again. But please, Ron, give Harry the papers. He's your best friend, and getting him out of here might save his life." Ron nodded. "Of course I'll give him the papers. But I doubt he'll leave willingly, knowing you aren't coming with him." He kissed her hair. "He won't know until just before we leave." Hermione answered, and then she kissed Ron. He kissed her back, then lightly kissed her forehead. "Here's looking at you, kid."  
  
~*~*~*  
  
almost blue almost doing things we used to do there's a boy here and he's almost you almost  
  
all the things that your eyes once promised I see in him too now your eyes are red from crying almost blue  
  
flirting with this disaster became me it made me as a fool who only had to be almost blue  
  
there is part of me that's always true always all the things never come to an end almost me, almost you almost blue 


	5. Goodbye To You

Casablanca: Diagon Alley  
  
5: Goodbye to You  
  
Author's Note: Final chapter! Yeah! I know I probably skipped lots o' parts from the movie, but I haven't seen it in months. That's my excuse. This is the part (if you haven't seen the movie) that makes you a little mad, it's like say wha???? But hey, it's how the movie goes. So. Read and review please, and check out my other stories- esp. if you're a Tamora Pierce fan, I'm starting lots of those.  
  
Disclaimer: I own not much. Michelle Branch owns the three clips from her songs I used for this fic- If Only She Knew, Goodbye To You, and Here With Me. And if you don't know who owns Harry Potter etc. . I feel for you. Please have your head examined.  
  
~*~*~*  
  
I try to help you out through the hardest of times Your heart is in your throat and I'm speaking my mind Though it looks as if it's over, I'm still not over you  
  
Hermione and Ron reminisced for hours about the great times they'd had in the past. Soon after she left (with a hug and kiss, of course), Ron headed to O'Malley's office for a little 'chat'.  
  
He had called O'Malley early to inform him of their secret meeting. It was to be in the closed and empty Ron's, since no one would be there.  
  
"Hello, Ron." O'Malley said as Ron walked in. "What is it you wanted?"  
  
"I've got some information you might want. Potter's going to leave tonight. I gave him the passports, but he doesn't know that I'm telling you this." Ron told him. O'Malley gaped.  
  
"I knew you were heartless, Ron, but your old best friend? Either way, it helps the Irish Ministry out a lot. We are in debt to you." He shook Ron's hand. "What time is his departure?"  
  
"9 o'clock, Pritchard's Field." Ron stated. O'Malley grinned, but couldn't help but shiver. Ron was cold, all right. Ice cold.  
  
~*~*~*  
  
Ron sat thoughtfully. It was the master plan. He knew it. Then, a thought struck him, and he was occupied by that thought and the debates following it for hours afterwards.  
  
~*~*~* It was 8:30, Pritchard's Field. Harry and Hermione, dressed in traveling clothes, waited impatiently for Ron. Finally, he showed up.  
  
"Ron!" Harry said quietly, embracing his old friend. "I can't thank you enough for this-" Hermione's sorrowful eyes stared into Ron's as he hugged Harry. He turned his face away from her gaze.  
  
"Here are the tickets. Be careful." He handed them to Harry. Just then, O'Malley walked up behinf the trio.  
  
"We've got you!" O'Malley roared triumphantly. Before anyone had a chance to take another breath, Ron whipped out a gun and aimed it at O'Malley.  
  
"O'Malley, don't you move. I've got this aimed at your heart."  
  
"That's my least vulnerable spot," he replied. "What are you getting at, Ron?" he asked. Ron stared emotionlessly back at him.  
  
"It was the master plan," Ron replied. "Of course Irish guards will be watching the airports, but if O'Malley, a great military leader, escorts people to a plane, they will get out without question. Now, O'Malley, escort them to the plane." Hermione, open mouthed, stared at Ron and begged him with her eyes. "Both of them," he added softly. O'Malley watched his face carefully, then sighed. Before they took a step, a man who had been hidden behind O'Malley's shadow jumped to a nearby owl booth.  
  
"Put down the owl," Ron said dangerously. The man continued writing. Ron shot him; he slumped down, dead. The owl flew off, spooked. Hermione buried her face in the back of Harry's shoulder and sobbed silently. Harry stared at Ron in shock.  
  
"Let's go," he said, as if nothing had happened. He followed O'Malley, gun hidden in his cloak, until they had almost reached the plane. Harry stopped.  
  
"Ron, before we go, may I have a word with you? And I'm sure Hermione wants one too." He asked. Ron nodded and walked a few meters away from Hermione and O'Malley, gun still aimed at the officer. He looked at Harry expectantly.  
  
"Look, Ron, I know all about you and Hermione. I've got people, they tell me things. I know what a great sacrifice this must be for you. I hope it doesn't damage our friendship any." He smiled ironically. "Crazy world that we live in," Ron smiled slightly.  
  
"It hasn't damaged anything. I have got the most popular pub in Ireland, haven't I? Call me if you ever need any help with your. business." Despite himself, he broke into a grin. Harry did too, then they hugged.  
  
"Good luck," Harry said.  
  
"You'll need it more than I do," Ron answered. Harry smiled and walked over to Hermione. He touched her lightly on the arm, a loving but sad look in his eyes, and pushed her towards Ron.  
  
"You can't make me go!" she whispered angrily, tears running down her face. Harry and O'Malley had turned the other way. Ron wiped her tears away and cradled her face.  
  
"You know it's the right thing to do. I think we've both known all along." He said softly. Hermione collapsed against him, crying quietly.  
  
"Of course it is! The right thing can never be the easy thing, though, can it? I love you, Ron." She said. Ron's heart broke but he smiled sadly.  
  
"Here's looking at you, kid. Good luck." He walked her back to Harry, rubbing her shoulders.  
  
"She's all yours," he said softly, and she ran into Harry's arms.  
  
I know he loves you and I can't interfere So I'll just sit back and watch my world disappear.  
  
Harry smiled knowingly at Ron and helped Hermione onto the plane. Ron watched as the plane lifted off, Hermione's face in the window growing smaller and smaller.  
  
Of all the things I believed in I just wanna get it over with Tears form behind my eyes but I do not cry Feel like I'm starting all over again Goodbye to you You were the one I loved The one thing that tried to hold on to .And it hurts to want everything and nothing at the same time. I want you, but I'm not giving up this time  
  
He turned to O'Malley, hands outstretched.  
  
"Arrest me, O'Malley. I've shot your personal assistant and held you at gunpoint." He said with a smile. But O'Malley didn't arrest him. He put his hands in his pockets and watched the retreating plane thoughtfully.  
  
"I should. But I don't really recall you doing anything wrong. do you?" he asked. Ron laughed and slung his arm around the officer's shoulders.  
  
"I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,"  
  
~*~*~*  
  
the end A/N2: ok, I want so far away from the original story line it's not even funny. One part I thought was funny though- the owl booth and 'put down the owl!'. Just fyi, the magic ministries (of Ireland and England) don't allow travel without passports and tickets that are to be earned, and even then they must fly by muggle plane. E-mail me if u have any questions and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review and tell your friends about my story! Love ya'll! 


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